Celestial Flight
by Lia Harkness
Summary: What if 'Year of Hell' had ended differently? And how would they cope if they remembered?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Star Trek, nor do I own the poem 'Celestial Flight' used here.

* * *

_"__All of our ships have been disabled, Captain. Do you have weapons?"_

Captain Kathryn Janeway surveyed her mangled bridge. Automatic reports bleeped in onto all of the remaining monitors, but no-one was left to answer them; and she really didn't need to know what they said. Hull breaches were a certainty, perhaps some question over the structural integrity, to name but two that were undoubtedly pouring in. The voice of her old friend, though, on a separate ship, was all the finality that she needed.

"Negative, Torpedo Launchers are down; I'm setting a collision course." Clutching to the arms of her command chair, she felt Voyager shudder as though consciously opposing her decision. Her fingers tapped across the monitor to her left, plotting a new course, before pausing.

"Janeway to the Fleet: Take your temporal shields offline."

_"__Captain, we won't be protected."_

"Exactly. If that ship is destroyed, all of history might be restored. And this is one year I'd like to forget."

_"__But Captain, what if it doesn't work?"_

"Then try," her breath caught in her throat and her face began to crumple. She steadied her hands, and reclined uneasily back into her seat. All around her, the posts of her Voyager, her family, were empty. The force field that separated her from the space in front of her, shivered again. The voice that escaped her was small and afraid, and for once, she was not ashamed. "Try to remember me."

_"__Captain, that may be impossible." _She smiled slightly at the bluntness of the Vulcan's statement. She confirmed the new flight plan, small fingers tapping at the screen. She glanced over at the chair that had been empty for more days than most, and grazed her fingers across its arm. He was safe now.

"Then remember instead of 'Celestial Flight'."

_"__Captain?" _Kathryn sighed, the poem rushing to the front of her memory. The list of difficulties women had faced when it had come to fighting for the right to fly was endless, yet the risks were just the same. It had once angered her that a woman's sacrifice was felt more than a man's, yet war poetry had always found a way to comfort her, to encourage her that she was not alone. Perhaps it would help them too. She closed her eyes.

"'She is not dead -  
But only flying higher,  
Higher than she's flown before,  
And earthly limitations  
Will hinder her no more...'"

* * *

Commander Chakotay fought his way to the bridge of the Mawasi vessel, wading through the surge of bodies, his vision obscured by vapour that seeped from burst conduits. Chaos was the most apt name for it. He stumbled through a door, blinking as he took in the scene.

He could see Voyager on the screen. Mangled, the saucer section severely damaged. Tuvok stood to one side, gazing blindly into the distance, verbalising his commands to his station, listening intently. It took him only a moment to recognise her voice, choked and sombre in the poem being projected across the Comm link.

"Tuvok, get me to Voyager, get me to the Captain" He strode towards the Vulcan, a new determination flooding through him.

"Commander, that course of action would be unadvisable. You too would die."

"But at least she wouldn't be alone." Hesitantly, he placed a hand on Tuvok's forearm, silently asking him to trust him. The crew was scattered, Voyager would soon be gone. There was no longer a need for a Captain, or a First Officer. What was needed instead was a little bit of humanity, a last display of faith.

"That sentiment would provide little comfort." Chakotay sighed, angered slightly, not for the first time, by the lack of emotions within Tuvok's voice He removed his hand, calculating.

"Are the transporters still online?"

"Affirmative."

"Then do I need to make it an order?"

* * *

"'So all you loved ones, dry your eyes,  
Yes, it is wrong that you should grieve,  
For she would love your courage more,  
And she would want you to believe  
She is not dead.  
You should have known  
That she is only flying higher,  
Higher than she's ever flown.'"

Her voice struggled over the words, intent on finishing despite the tears that stained her cheeks. Voyager rattled, she clung to the arms of her chair. But before her voice could start again, she felt a hand cover hers and drag it to her left. Soft, and comforting, but forceful enough to make her know that it wasn't an illusion conjured by her imagination. She opened her eyes, heart leaping at the sight before her.

"Chakotay?" He locked his fingers through hers, sat again in his familiar chair in order to withstand Voyager's pitching course. He was thankful for the silence of the transporters, if only to see the temporary joy flicker across her face. The gulf between them seemed to disappear in that moment.

"You're not alone Kathryn. You never have been."

Any protest she could have lodged was lost in an instance as Voyager's hull buckled against the Krenim ship, and they were surrounded by the inescapable crunch of a metallic collision.

* * *

The poem used is 'Celestial Flight' by Elizabeth MacKethan Magid, a former WASP of the US Air Force, and is beautiful in its full format. I recommend that you look it up.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah Captain, how lovely to see you again."

The bright, clinical lights of sickbay crept into Kathryn's vision. Bleary, the tinny voice of the Emergency Medical Hologram brought her slowly back to the surface. But it felt wrong. The persistent clicking as he scanned her with his tricorder sounded surreal, distant almost.

"... And I suppose you too will also claim to have experienced this 'Year of Hell' too, hmm?"

"What?" She struggled to sit upright, absently knocking his hand out of her way, before gazing around, eyes wide. Everything was out of focus.

"Although, I must say, there is evidence for it happening." He resumed to scanning around her, taking in the vacant look on her face and her oblivious attitude to his scanning. "The appearance of your burns, and the loss of your hair, were indeed perplexing and provide a strong case. I have been able to regenerate the skin tissue to all but one of your burns. I'm afraid the scar on your right shoulder will remain with you for life."

"Doctor, please... Slow down." She could hear his voice, but it wasn't all registering. _He_ was barely registering. She ran her hand first across her shoulder, the puckered skin rough beneath her fingers, and then through her shortened hair. Both had an explanation, but as though like a dream, it felt muggy and unclear. Everything felt like it was slipping away from her. Was she even here?

"Voyager? The Crew?"

"Captain, you'll have to be more specific than that."

"How is she? Is everyone onboard?" She was gazing down at her hands now, turning them over and clenching her fingers, almost experimentally. The Doctor stood back and frowned.

"The crew are all accounted for and 'she' is perfectly fine, as far as I'm aware." The Doctor turned away as Kathryn slumped back down onto the biobed, relief flickering across her face. As he approached his desk, he muttered under his breath. "You, however, I'm not so sure about."

Silence reigned as the Doctor analysed Kathryn's vital readings. All signatures read normal, yet she was anything but. Glancing over, he saw her fingers alternate between curling into fists and tapping out a rhythm on the mattress.

"Am I dead?" The voice was not one associated with the Captain. Barely audible, it was weak and submissive.

"Hmm, strange," the EMH pursed his lips, tapping away at a monitor, "Commander Chakotay asked the same thing." He moved from behind the desk to scan her again.

"No Captain, you are alive and as physically capable as usual. Although, during your sleep, the crew all experienced a phenomenon, by which you all recall a year on Voyager that never happened."

"It happened, Doctor." He paused and smiled down at her. That was more like it. Stubborn and insistent, yet the underlying tone was still uncertain, and worryingly so. She sat up again, gathering her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.

"As you wish." The steady bleeping of the tricorder started again as he took more readings. "Anyway, the majority of them awoke without incident the next morning, but when the senior staff failed to report for duty, Security found you all unconscious in varying states of exhaustion and with a wide range of injuries. All but you and the Commander came round in under 12 hours, and the Commander only took a further 8. You, however, have been in sickbay for nearly two days."

The Doctor picked up a flashlight and peered into Kathryn's eyes. She jumped, blinking furiously, looking at him properly for the first time since she'd woken. He held her gaze before reaching his conclusion, her eyes glazing over, slipping away again. He swallowed slightly. This was dangerous territory now.

He retreated behind his desk as he typed out the order, fearful for his subroutines as he made his declaration.

"I'm signing you off duty for a week, minimum. I will monitor your progress twice a day." Instinctively, he flinched.

"Can I return to my Quarters now, Doctor?"

"Excuse me?" Kathryn Janeway never agreed with medical orders that restricted her duties as Captain.

"Can I return to my Quarters, or do you wish to keep me under observation?" She began to fidget, the fingers of her left hand tapping incessantly. Her gaze had shifted again, staring into the space between her and the floor. The Doctor sighed, softening his voice; there was little he could do for her right now.

"Sickbay to Bridge"

_"__Chakotay here." _Sounds of the duty bridge seeped through the comm link. The Doctor stepped away as he saw Kathryn tense at the sound of the bustling environment.

"Requesting a site-to-site transport for the Captain to her quarters."

_"__Granted." _

The Doctor watched as the Captain dematerialised, still curled up like a small child. His brow furrowed deeper than he had allowed it to when she had been here. Now the practical side had to be dealt with.

_"__She's awake, Doc? How is she?"_ The Commander's tone had elevated somewhat, simultaneously eager yet apprehensive.

"Get into a turbolift, Commander. I will explain to you in transit." The Doctor returned to his office and sat down. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, waiting for the inevitable anxiety that would be underlying in the Commander's next words.

_"__Doctor?"_

"Commander." His tone was firm, leaving no questions. It wasn't a request, it was an order.

_"__Tuvok, you have the Bridge."_


	3. Chapter 3

Before this next chapter, I'd like to thank everybody for all of your positive feedback, in reviews and in following this story. It really means a lot to me, and I hope I can live up to your expectations!

* * *

"Deck 5," Commander Chakotay stated, intent on reaching sickbay as soon as he could. The turbolift doors swished closed behind him, just as Seven led Tuvok to the centre of the Bridge. He sighed and waited for the system to engage.

_"__Deck 3, more like, Commander,"_ the Doctor drawled across the comm link.

"Computer, pause turbolift." The lights dimmed, cutting power. Chakotay leant to rest his back on the wall and glanced at the door, wondering what was running through the heads of the bridge personnel. Given recent events, he was sure none of it would be positive. "What is it that you couldn't tell me in front of the crew, Doctor?"

_"__You've heard of the 1000-yard stare, Commander?"_ The Doctor's voice had unnervingly softened more than it usually did; the tone he had learnt to only use when bad news was to follow. With trepidation, Chakotay nodded slowly to himself and confirmed.

"Yes."

_"__The Captain has it."_ It was like the floor fell from beneath him. The hope he had held when the Doctor had originally contacted him not a few short minutes ago was long gone.

_"__I've signed her off for a week, initially, but I can't keep her here; too many people are having to visit on a regular basis, and her state,"_ Chakotay could tell the Doctor was formulating his words carefully. _"Her state could potentially alarm the crew."_

"Doctor..."

_"__Commander, we need to watch to make sure that these symptoms don't develop further. Equally though, we don't want to suppress them. It's a fine balance, and we need to offer help in whatever way we can."_ Chakotay closed his eyes, covering them with the palms of his hands, shutting out the world. But the Doctor didn't stop.

_"__I don't want to remove her from duty permanently, Commander, believe me, but if her symptoms persist, I will be forced to declare Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."_

"Doctor, what are you asking of me?" His hands fell back to his side. He wanted the conversation to end. The Doctor was only making the situation sound hopeless, and he wished to make his own judgements.

_"__I have just signed you off for the rest of your shift, and it's your day off tomorrow. Go to her, please. Assess the situation, provide comfort; try and get her to sleep if you can. I'll drop by at 2100 hours. I could use an excursion."_

"Computer, alter destination to Deck 3. Resume transit." The lights flared, the gentle humming of the motion returning. Chakotay turned to the door, bracing himself slightly.

_"__She needs human contact, Chakotay, and she trusts you more than any other member of this crew -"_ It was clear the doctor wanted to say more, but as the doors swished open, Chakotay cut him short.

"Chakotay out." He tapped his comm badge and stepped out into the corridor.

* * *

Outside of the Captain's quarters, he heard the chime on the other side of the door. When there was no answer, he activated his security override codes and stepped inside.

The lights were dim, but apart from that, little seemed different. Everything was neat, tidied away, clear surfaces; the air was tinged with the scent of her. On first glance, nothing seemed wrong, just empty. Then he saw her.

Slumped against the wall by the door to her bedroom, Kathryn was curled tightly, shaking. The sounds of her sobs were quiet, despite her heaving shoulders. Chakotay quickly closed the distance between them, kneeling before her.

"Kathryn?" She was oblivious, her tear stained cheek turned away from him. He reached out to brush her hair from her forehead.

She jumped. Eyes wild, she thrashed out, retreating like a cornered animal. He caught her arm firmly and pulled her back. She cowered from him, her unfocused, unblinking stare, full of fear, driving like a sword through his heart. As Chakotay loosened his grip, he guided her trembling chin so that he could meet her eyes with his. Their deep blue was in turmoil, rolling like the ocean in a storm. Then recognition clicked, and it was as if the seas stilled.

"Chakotay," his name was barely a whisper on her lips as she crumbled, this time burying her head into his shoulder, her hands grasping at the fabric of his uniform, clinging on as though he was about to slip away. She shuddered again, and he wrapped his arms around her tiny form, drawing her closer to his chest.

So fragile. How was this the same, strong woman he had followed for more than three years? It had to be the alternate timeline, when he wasn't on the ship. So much had happened, that was clear by Voyagers state, but how had it caused all of this?

Time slipped by unnoticed as they sat, as Kathryn slowly cried herself out. Chakotay held her, whispered softly in her ear, ran his fingers through her hair, anything he could do to tell her she was safe, that he wasn't going anywhere. The silence that slowly fell between them was calmer, but the hurt was still tangible, emphasised by the persistent twitch in her left hand, as she clenched her fist before releasing it again.

"I lost everything," she croaked as the clatter of the shift change faded from above. She looked up, eyes red raw, their oceans still choppy. He lifted a hand to rest gently on her cheek as she furrowed her brow again.

"I lost my crew. I lost Voyager. I couldn't get them home." She blinked, and in doing so the loss felt by Kathryn dissolved into the determined Captain, angered by her failure. "For what, Chakotay? For what!"

He hushed her quietly, placing his forehead against hers

"You wanted to reset the timeline, and you did. You got your crew back, and Voyager is still rumbling on as usual." Chakotay looked down at the fist curling and stretching on her knee, and folded his hands around it. Her fingers still twitched beneath his, but their rhythm became less frequent. "We are going home."

"Then why does it feel so pointless?" He sighed at the helplessness in her tone and the inadequacy the explanation he had to provide.

"We all experienced a year that never existed, and those memories are still there. Us, the senior crew, though, we have to bear the scars too. We were too close to the reset that it brought us back with them. Your Burns, Tuvok's blindness; we don't know if they will last, and we can only hope that they don't. But we lost so much and worked through it; survived. Now we've got to survive again."

Kathryn's face clouded, pulling her hand free of his. The twitch returned. Her expression was unreadable. Then she was there, her lips so close to his that he could feel her breath mingling with his own. She brushed her nose slightly against his, her voice low and mischievous as her hands danced through his hair, pulling him closer.

"But I don't want to survive. I want to live."

"Kathryn, stop." Chakotay's head was suddenly spinning, his heart screaming against his better judgement.

"Come on Chakotay, what's it going to hurt?"

"You're not in your right state of mind." It took every part of his willpower to place his hands on her shoulders and gently push her away. Her wicked smile fell instantly into a look full of venom.

"Who are you to judge my mind, you..."

"I will not take advantage of you." He cut in, placating her anger by placing his hands on either side of her face. Her insult sizzled out, left unsaid. "You're not well, Kathryn."

He saw the tears forming in her eyes again and took her back into his arms. A glance at the time told him that the Doctor would be here soon. Slowly, he shifted his weight and his hold on her so that he could stand. She felt so light, curled up in his arms.

"Let's get you settled," he murmured softly, noting as all tensions bar that of her left hand melted into a quiet submission. He didn't know how long it would last, but she provided no protest as he carried her to her bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I took a little bit of artistic licence this time round, with regard to when Captain Janeway cut her hair. I felt it had no reasoning behind it at the beginning of the episode, so I gave it a purpose.

* * *

It took the two of them and a hypospray to wrestle Kathryn Janeway to sleep that night. As she drifted off, the Doctor reset the broken nose she had awarded her First Officer for his efforts.

"Well, the Captain is definitely stronger than she looks," the Doctor stated, passing a tricorder across his handiwork. "Your nose will be fine, Commander. I suggest next time, though, that we have hold of her arms before we even _mention_ a sedative."

Chakotay chuckled and gazed down at Kathryn's sleeping form. While asleep, the stillness settled uneasily across her, contrasting greatly to the volatility of her earlier emotions. He brushed the hair off her face, his fingers lingering across her pale skin.

"What do you think, Doc?" He murmured his words, brow furrowed out of concern.

"Well, her symptoms do include the stare, uncharacteristic personality traits, mood swings, paranoia, resistance to sleep, and that nervous twitch you were telling me about." The Doctor watched as Chakotay sighed as though in pain himself. The hologram pursed his lips and tidied away his medical equipment.

"So not good," Chakotay said with resignation in his voice.

"It's still early days." The hologram watched silently at the interaction between his two senior officers. So human, the delicate, forbidden contact of his worn fingers across her forehead, tracing imagined patterns along her hairline.

"How well do you sleep, Commander?" Chakotay glanced up at the Doctor, a look of confusion across his face.

"Do you wake easily?"

"I'm a light sleeper, Doctor." The Doctor raised his eyebrows, sceptical.

"Even in your own state of exhaustion?"

Chakotay smiled, and nodded.

"Even if I've come off of a thirteen-hour duty shift with engineering troubles, course corrections and incidents concerning hostile species." He breathed deeply, allowing his voice to soften. "If she starts bustling around, I'll hear her through the bulkhead." He rapped his knuckles gently against the wall separating his quarters from hers. He shrugged his shoulders, smiling slightly. "I always do. The clattering she makes, it's difficult to doze off when she's pulling an all-nighter."

"Good. Keep an ear out. Nightmares are running rife at the moment, for all crew members, and it wouldn't be uncommon for her condition either." The Doctor turned to leave. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

The doors swished closed behind the hologram, and Chakotay turned back to the sleeping Captain. He leant down, placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead, before pulling away guiltily.

"Goodnight, Kathryn."

The Doctor needn't have worried. The cries of her nightmare woke Chakotay instantly.

* * *

_At first it was empty blackness, tinted by the gentle thrum of voices. As they slowly faded, she was left alone._

_After a time, the darkness thinned and the dreams began._

_They always started in the same way as they had for months. Well, if it could be counted as months anymore._

_They always started by losing him._

_"__They're scanning us," Tom's voice echoed across the bridge, but her eyes were drawn away as she watched her First Officer stride towards the helm. Then, without warning, the two of them dematerialised before her._

_"__Get a lock on them!"_

_But they never could._

_Chakotay was gone._

_They always left him behind. _

_Three days later, she sent her crew away. _

_That night, by habit, while taking the pins from her hair to let it tumble to her shoulders, Kathryn stared at her fractured reflection in the broken mirror. _

_Rummaging, she found the knife she always carried in her quarters._

_Locks of her auburn hair gathered at her feet._

_Stop._

_Breathe._

_Focus._

_The Captain who glared back from the glass now was no longer Kathryn. With a bob that grazed her jawline, this Captain was for war. This was who she had become._

_From then on, it always went from bad to worse as Voyager fell apart beneath their fingertips._

_Sometimes life support would fail and she would choke on the lack of air._

_Sometimes the warp core would destabilise and engulf the ship._

_Falling Bulkheads, unstable forcefields, burst conduits, slipping off of rungs in the Jeffries tubes. Voyager would always find a way to punish her in her dreams._

_Punishing her for not voicing her feelings sooner. _

_Punishing her for letting her crew leave. _

_Punishing her for all of the decisions that had led them here. _

_Punishing her by forcing her to die alone._

_Tonight she was on fire, skin blistering and peeling from the heat, blood boiling. She clawed at her skin as it bubbled and charred, screaming as the flames licked deeper. There was a voice, but it felt too far away. They never reached her in time. She curled herself tighter into a ball as the tendrils of fire danced across her back, searing into her shoulders. She felt her lungs grow heavy from smoke inhalation, about to lose consciousness, still grasping at her last few words._

_"'__She is not dead,  
But only flying higher  
Higher than she's flown before...'"_

* * *

"Kathryn!"

Chakotay tried desperately to bring her out of her dream. Her whole body was rigid, curled in the middle of her mattress. At first he shook her forearm gently, and brushed away the tears on her cheek. He tried to keep a professional distance. But when he saw her clawing fingernails draw blood from the burn on her shoulder, he prised her hand away, and linked his fingers through hers.

"Kathryn, wake up. It's not real, you're safe. You're not alone anymore." He drew her closer, whispering constantly in her ear. He cradled her in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest, holding her tighter as her breathing quickened.

"I can help you, please. Just wake up, Kathryn. Just open your eyes," Chakotay pleaded, blinking as he felt the tears prick his own eyes as he rocked her gently back and forth. He felt useless, holding her trembling form, as indiscriminate words tumbled from her unconscious.

At first, her voice was barely audible, but it grew laboured as though short of breath.

"'... only flying higher  
Higher than she's flown before...'"

Then her eyes flew open.

With a shuddered intake of breath, her gaze met his. She started to her knees, facing him, hands urgent, patting against his shoulders and cupping his cheeks, before checking his nose, ears and eyes, lingering in his hair and on his tattoo. As her arms fell to his chest, she crumpled again. Suppressing his confusion, Chakotay laid his cheek against her hair and held her tight as she cried into his shirt.

"Don't leave," she murmured softly as the quiet settled again. He hushed her softly, rubbing small circles into her back.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	5. Chapter 5

Kathryn couldn't sleep after that, but each time she tried, she wound herself tighter. All she could think about was Voyager and losing control again. Losing him again. No. She couldn't think like that, not now they were back. Back. It was still a strange concept, her brain still processing the last few minutes of that timeline. One thing she was certain of was that he had been there. Unsettled she sat up again, massaging the base of her palms across her temples. She glared down next to her at Chakotay, lying on his back, his eyes shut peacefully while a smile danced across his lips, his cheeks dimpled. One hand lay across his chest; the other was stretched out towards her.

"Are you asleep?" He opened one bleary eye and smirked.

"With you making that much noise? You must be joking." Even in the dim lighting he could see her expression darken, and soon realised his mistake.

She punched him hard on the arm.

He cried out in pain, rubbing his palm against his injury. He sat up to face her. "Ok, ok, I'm up. You've already broken my nose today, I'd like to keep my arm intact as well, thank you."

"I broke your nose?" He felt her moods flip again, as her voice filled with concern, lifting a hand to trace the bridge of his nose carefully. He shook her away.

"It was nothing the Doctor couldn't fix."

Kathryn gathered her knees to her chest, fixing her stare to the corner of the room. Chakotay was about to lay back down, when he heard her quiet voice.

"I can't sleep."

"I'd noticed." He softened his voice too. He inched closer to her, placing a comforting hand at her waist. "Perhaps we can get around that. There are other ways to rest."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes sharpened with suspicion. About to quote protocols and kick him out of her quarters, Chakotay raised his hand, his eyes silently asking her to trust him.

"Close your eyes," he gently eased her shoulders back until they were lying side by side again. He slipped one of his hands down her arm and linked his fingers with hers. "Focus on your surroundings. Nothing else. Banish the thoughts from your mind, and concentrate on the here and now."

She sighed, and he squeezed her hand gently in encouragement.

"What do you feel? What can you hear? Smell? Taste?"

His voice faded away, seemingly drowned by the rumbling of Voyager's engines. She could hear the murmur of the Computer, faint noises from the Mess hall above them; scraping chairs, tapping feet, muffled conversations. She felt the mattress supporting her, moulding itself to the curves of her body. She felt the air weigh down on her chest, the forces of the artificial gravity. Faint aromas of Neelix's cooking wafted through the ventilation system, almost completely overwhelmed by the tang of cold, hard metal.

But she also felt her hand in his, his fingers soft but strong. There was a warmth, a comfort, even from that slight touch. She heard his breathing deepen as he shifted closer to sleep. She could smell the soft scent of his skin, his hair. Emotions tumbled across her before settling on one that she liked. She felt safe. And for now, that suited her just fine.

At 0800, the EMH stalked through the doors. Dozing, Kathryn didn't hear him until he cleared his throat at the foot of the bed. Opening her eyes, she was suddenly aware of the compromising position they were in and pulled herself away.

But she wouldn't let go of his hand.

"Good morning, Captain," The Doctor beamed at her, voice light and airy. Nodding his head at Chakotay his usual mannerism returned. "Commander."

She glanced down as Chakotay murmured sleepily beside her, pinching the bridge of his nose before blinking.

"Morning, Doc." He smiled at them as he sat up, squeezing her hand gently. "How long are you here for this morning?"

"As long as you need me to be, Commander."

"Good," He made to leave, but she refused to let go, her fingers clasped tightly to his. He turned to her, placing his other hand gently on her forearm. "I'm coming back," he whispered as he removed his hand from her grip. He stood, exchanging a nod with the Doctor again. She watched as the doors swished closed behind him, her chest tightening slightly.

"So, Captain. How are we today?"

Fresh out of the shower, Chakotay selected off duty clothes, pinning his badge to the shirt. He pressed the cool metal gently and the link chirped to life.

"Commander Chakotay to the Bridge."

_"__Tuvok here."_

"Report."

_"__You are off duty, Commander." _Chakotay didn't need to be facing the Vulcan to know that he was being reprimanded. He chuckled slightly.

"I know, just checking."

_"__Nothing of significance. We have made friendly contact with the Nihydron's again."_

"Good, if that's all then -"

_"__The Captain?" _The interruption, albeit delivered in true Vulcan monotone style, was tinged with concern. The background of the bridge lulled silent as he heard the rest of the crew wait on his answer too.

"I'm not at liberty to share that information, Tuvok." He swallowed a sigh, not allowing his voice to waver. "The Doctor and I will continue to monitor her progress."

_"__As you wish. Tuvok out."_ The comm link bleeped out.

Chakotay rested his head against the bulkhead. What if she didn't make progress? Could he really command the ship, knowing that two decks below she was going out of her mind? And how would the crew cope, knowing that the Delta Quadrant had driven even their Captain –

No.

There was still time, and plenty of it.

"Doctor, what have you done with the Captain?"

Chakotay glanced around her empty rooms before raising an eyebrow at the EMH, who was sitting primly at the end of her couch, looking rather out of place.

"The Captain is having a bath. She claims it relaxes her." Through his pursed lips, the Doctor's voice was unconvinced. Chakotay stifled a laugh before nodding. He knew perfectly well that Kathryn Janeway was very fond of a bath to relax in.

"How was she?"

"Well," Chakotay sighed, glancing at the closed doors to the bathroom and lowering his voice. "I spent the night here, surely that can be proof of it being not particularly fantastic."

"Nightmares?"

"One. But she couldn't sleep after it."

"Did she talk about it?"

"No. It upset her a lot, though, whatever it was." He paused, hesitating. He remembered the wild urgency in her eyes as she had checked the features of his face before bursting into tears again. Almost as though checking that he was real; that he was alive and really sat there next to her. "She wouldn't let me leave her; you yourself observed her reluctance earlier."

The hologram raised an eyebrow and stood.

"Well, it might give us an insight into what's troubling her. Try and find out, but don't feel the need to press the subject. It can wait a while if necessary."

The Doctor walked over to the doors before calling out:

"I'm leaving now, Captain. I'll see you at 2100 hours." With a final nod to Chakotay, the doors swished closed behind him.

"Oh dear God, I thought he'd never leave." Kathryn's voice was muffled through her bathroom doors, but its exasperation was tangible. Chakotay broke into a full, unforced smile for the first time in nearly three days as he slid to the floor, his back against the wall to the bathroom.

"I'm here if you need me, Kathryn."

"Just leave to my bath in peace, will you?" Despite the snap in her tone, Chakotay smiled again, closing his eyes to snooze lightly as he waited for her.

She was still Kathryn, no matter what was hurting her.


	6. Chapter 6

Again, I don't own the poem, but please go and read it: Celestial Flight by Elizabeth MacKeathan Magid.

Thank you to all for your positive comments.

* * *

To Chakotay, the day passed much in the way he expected it to. After emerging from her bath, it wasn't long before the violent turmoil of Kathryn's emotions began to take hold again, throwing her from one moment to the next with scarcely any pause for consideration in between, and the internal strain was etched across her face. She barely ate anything for breakfast or lunch, despite his insistence. The chances for a coherent conversation were few, and short lived. Only on the occasions when her barriers collapsed, and her haunted eyes glazed over slightly, did he manage to make some headway.

In one of her quieter moments, he spied an old fashioned, paper poetry book on the table with a coloured marker poking from between the pages. He reached out for it and settled back into the cushions of the couch, pulling her towards him. She resisted initially, but submitted, resting her head against his chest.

"War Poetry?" He murmured, glancing from the cover of the book to her small form curled beside him. He noted that her nervous twitch had returned, as her fingers balled to a fist and stretched out again, following an erratic, nonsensical rhythm. She nodded slowly.

"I find it comforting."

"What's this one?" He asked, flicking through the pages to the marker.

"No!" She bolted upright, snatching the paperback from his hand. In an instant, she was on the other side of the room, huddled defensively in a corner, hugging it to her chest.

"Kathryn, what is it?" He stood up slowly and padded gently towards her. As he knelt before her, he stroked the top of her knees gently with his thumbs, holding her steady in an attempt to stop her trembling.

"Kathryn, please?" He reached out to brush the tears from her cheeks, but she jerked her face, and the book, away from his touch. With a soft sigh, he persisted in his task, gently smoothing his hands across her knees, and eventually across her face, hoping to comfort her. As her breathing steadied and her muscles relaxed, he shifted her gently so that they could sit side-by-side, backs against the wall. Capturing her left hand in both of his, he held her trembling fingers close to his chest. "Is this the poem that you keep saying? At the end of the timeline? Your nightmare last night?"

Tears still falling, she gazed across the floor, not daring to meet his eye. He waited, stroking and intertwining her restless fingers with his own stronger, calmer ones.

"First time back in San Francisco," her voice cracked, causing her to take a ragged breath to steady herself. He squeezed the hand he held in encouragement, grazing his thumbs across her palm. "Somehow, I ended up sat on this bench. Then there was someone standing there. With a rose. The same sort of rose that this same someone used to give me, every day at the Academy. The same someone who taught you to throw punches."

"Boothby."

"Do you know what I did?" She started to her feet, anger blazing again "I destroyed the rose. I tore it into tiny little shreds, and threw the petals at his face. I screamed and I shouted. I lashed out at him. And he just sat there and took it. Just. Like. You. Are. Now!" The last few words were each punctuated with a slap against his chest or his arms as he approached her. He ignored them. Chakotay gathered Kathryn into his arms, rocking her back and forth, crooning softly into her ear. He felt her knees buckle and her arms snake around his neck, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, and he was suddenly supporting her weight fully.

"Boothby must have had a reason." He bent down, lifting her knees to carry her back towards the couch, setting her down gently. Before he could move beside her, she grasped hold of his arm. Chakotay sat instead on the floor, facing her. Her expression still uneasy, Kathryn leant forward until their faces were level. Her eyes flickered across his features seeming both to see, and see through him, as though the internal war being waged in her mind was flickering between the present and something distant.

"I saw so much - pain, hopelessness, fear - on Tau Ceti Prime. The two men I had loved and believed in, so vulnerable in their last moments. Dead because I couldn't save them. Boothby knew it was affecting me. So after I wore myself out, it was his turn to shout at me."

"Now, I don't believe that." His heart leapt at the small smile that his disbelief had caused to flicker across her lips.

"Well, you should. He told me everything that I needed to hear, but everyone else was too afraid to say. Time and moping wasn't going to bring them back; Starfleet wouldn't wait for me forever. One thing stuck firm though - I can still hear him saying it - just as he was walking away. _'They wouldn't want to be remembered that way, and neither would you. How will you be remembered, Kathryn?'_ I haven't seen him since." She shrugged dismissively, but the sadness clung to her voice in spite of herself. Then she locked her eyes with his and it was as though he was drowning in their deep, blue, mournful sea. She slid to straddle his lap, handing him the paperback and placing her palms on either side of his face.

"This is how I want to be remembered, Chakotay," voice quiet to silence his protests, allowing her fingers to dance and tangle in his hair; to trace the tattoo she loved so much, but so secretly, across his brow. "It's practically guaranteed that I will die for Starfleet, yet in spite of it, I love space. I love the thrill of the travel, and the science behind it. And this poem, it says it all." She withdrew her hands and leant back away from him.

"It's me."

Chakotay turned to the marked page, the dark lines of text swarming across the page and through his mind. Glancing at the dedication, he saw it had been written for another female pilot; he understood. She was right. Everything from its mentions of fuel range's and comets, to its tone of complete selflessness, it was as though it was written for Kathryn Janeway.

"Chakotay, remember me like that?"

"_Like courage, love and hope_," he quoted. With tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, she leant forwards to kiss him. As before, though, his heart shattered as he forced himself to push her away. Unable to meet her eye, he ran his hands softly up and down her arms. "That still doesn't explain why you say it in your dreams."

He closed his eyes as her words struck him like daggers.

"How can you push me away, when for years you have waited for just this?"

"Kathryn, as I've told you, I will not take advantage of you." He brushed the hair from her face, still unfamiliar with the short strands. "Yes, I want that, I want you to tell me, to show me the feelings you keep hidden. But to do so in a way that you would later regret would be unfair, and I would hate even more for you to regret what you had said or done."

"Not even a kiss?" She breathed, her brow furrowed as she did when her headaches set in. He leant forward, meeting her forehead with his, not breaking her gaze. The knowledge that she was so close to being his felt like it was burning him alive, but at this point in time, with her so vulnerable, Chakotay knew he could not succumb to his senses. He had to do what Kathryn needed him to, not what he, or she, wanted.

"I will hold you, I will comfort you, and I will even sleep by your side if it helps keep your nightmares at bay. But I will not kiss you until I know that you won't regret it when you're well again." His voice soft, but stern, he held her a safe distance from him until she acknowledged him with a nod. Then he drew her closer to him, rubbing a hand across the small of her back.

"Why do you repeat the poem?" Curiosity still danced in his mind. Her explanation was drowsy as he felt her muscles relax, tension knots unwinding as they sat there. He pulled the two of them back up onto the couch where it would be more comfortable if she chose to sleep.

"It's a comfort to me, Chakotay. I've used it ever since I first read it, clung to it whenever I felt I was close to dying. Here in the Delta Quadrant, I've used it more times than I care to count to try and keep control. But in the," she paused shifting to lay her head in his lap as the exhaustion crept over her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she sighed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "In the timeline, just saying it in my head didn't work anymore. The nightmares were more frequent, each worse than the one before. I..." Her breath hitched in the back of her throat. "They were eating me alive. And, to an extent, they still are."

"What are they, Kathryn?" She shook her head, drained from lack of sleep and lack of food, voice small.

"Promise me that you'll remember me as in that poem?" He sighed sadly, but nodded his head.

"I promise. But you're not dying for a long time yet. I won't allow it. But, if you do," he gazed down at her head resting on his legs and ran his fingers across her hairline. Her breathing was regular as she drifted into sleep, "I will remember the Captain who was a Scientist first, and had her crew in her heart. The Captain pursuing fearlessly the aim to get her people home, which we will, Kathryn, we will get them home. I will remember the stubborn, determined tactics, your blunt diplomacy. But I will remember Kathryn, too. Beautiful, brave, headstrong Kathryn, every bit the Captain, and more. Kathryn, distant but ever-present; I will remember every time you let me see behind those walls you have built. And I will hope beyond hope that whatever conflict that rages in your beautiful mind right now, will be settled, and you will be at peace."


	7. Chapter 7

I caught the writing bug this weekend, after a long, difficult week (until Friday. Friday was good!), and here is one of the products of that!

* * *

_Tonight, a hull breach and a forcefield failure flung her out into the emptiness of space._

_She had been hurrying along the corridor to Engineering when the bulkhead ahead had been blown outwards. She glanced at the rift cautiously as a forcefield had sizzled into place instantly. Interference, though, was causing it to shudder, and she held back._

_"__Captain, we need you now!" B'Elanna's voice was desperate and urgent over the comm link, and Kathryn set into a run again. But as she skirted past the tear in the wall, the forcefield shivered and ceased to exist._

_The scream she held was ripped from her in the silence of the vacuum, hurling her outwards, spinning further and further from her ship. She knew, without a suit, transporters down, she would last barely 30 seconds. She caught glimpses of the wreck of her ship and struggled to find her last piece of comfort. But the words wouldn't come. Her surroundings could no longer carry sound and she felt the deep panic rise in her chest. _

_No poem. _

_No comfort. _

_Tonight she found out what it really meant to die alone. _

_Alone in space. _

_Where no-one would ever find her._

* * *

Kathryn had stopped breathing. That had never happened before.

She was screaming, thrashing as usual as Chakotay wrestled for control, whispering soft words to console and bring her back to him. He pushed the hair that was stuck to her cheek off her face, and wiped away the tears that gathered in its place. And then she had stilled; arms, legs, clutching fingers, even the rise and fall of her chest.

Chakotay's heart skipped a beat.

Frantically, he felt for her pulse and hovered his cheek above her mouth. He sensed the small, regular movement of her blood under his fingers and was satisfied, but he didn't feel the air disturb between his face and hers, couldn't hear it either, confirming what his eyes had refused to believe. With urgency, he grasped for his comm badge and slapped it hard.

"Chakotay to the Doctor; the Captain's not breathing!"

_"__Stay there, Commander. I'm already halfway there."_

Instinct took over.

Picking Kathryn up in his arms, he laid her on the floor. With his fingers under her chin he tilted her head backwards, opening the airway, whispering constantly despite the lump in his throat. Then he pinched her nose, took a deep breath, and sealed his lips over hers.

He exhaled, forcing the air to move to her lungs. He felt her chest rise slightly and he pulled away. With another breath, he repeated the motion.

No response.

He sat up and linked his fingers together and started compressions to the centre of her chest, attempting to keep his rhythm as constant as he could. Once completed, still to no effect, he returned his mouth to hers, willing with every fibre of his being for her to reawaken. Chakotay hadn't noticed the entrance of the hologram, or his scanning, until he heard his voice halfway through his second compression cycle.

"She's gone into shock, Commander. This should help." The Doctor pressed a hypospray to Kathryn's neck. Chakotay paused, watching. Waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kathryn's eyelids fluttered open, and she took a deep, shuddered breath. They locked eyes and the both of them burst into tears.

"Don't you do that to me," he cried, gathering her into his arms. She buried her head into his shoulder, whispering indistinguishably. Rocking the both of them, his mind still blurred, he brushed his lips fleetingly across her neck. "Don't you ever, ever do that to me. Never again, Kathryn. Never, please, oh Gods..."

* * *

"I was in a nightmare... I couldn't breathe." She explained once they had settled her back under the covers. Chakotay held her hand, running his thumb over the top of her fingers. She shot a brief look at him, unable to meet his eyes that were still red from his tears. "I couldn't use the poem."

"And somehow that translated into a physical process. There seems to be no other explanation, but I will run these tests when I return to sickbay." The Doctor sighed, folding his arms, "if this persists, Captain, I will have to keep you in sickbay every time you sleep." He noted the fear in her features as her head jerked towards him. He smiled in an attempt to comfort her, "but seeing as it's just this once, I'll let you remain in your Quarters."

"Thank you, Doctor." She relaxed back into the cushions and closed her eyes, her breathing, though still elevated, falling back into a steady rhythm. Quietly, Chakotay turned to the EMH, still holding her hand in his.

"Where were you, Doc? You said you were halfway here? Wouldn't this usually warrant a medical emergency transport?" Chakotay glanced up at the Doctor momentarily before returning his eyes to watch Kathryn. She was still tense, and his worry was written over his face.

"I had just left Tuvok's Quarters when you called me, and Mr Paris is on duty in sickbay. I thought it unwise to send the Captain to him, and potentially cause a ship wide panic, when I could have been here in the same amount of time that a transport would have taken." At the mention of Tuvok, Chakotay raised an eyebrow in question to the Doctor. Subtly, the hologram shook his head, telling him that now was not the time. Silently, Chakotay agreed. They couldn't worry Kathryn with the strain that surrounded her oldest friend just yet. He returned to stroking the back of her hand absently, brow furrowed. The Doctor took in the scene before him, before turning away. "If everything is ok here, I should return and relieve Mr Paris. Good night, Captain, Commander."

"Thanks, Doc." Chakotay called after him as the doors swished open for the hologram to exit. Once they had shut behind him, Chakotay closed the distance between Kathryn and himself, taking her face between his palms.

"Don't say that you can't tell me what it is." His voice was low, pleading to her for an explanation. When she refused to meet his eye and pulled away, he felt the anger he kept buried within rise to the surface, his own exhaustion from the past days adding to it.

"Damn it Kathryn, this has been going on for over a week! You've been suspended from duty until the end of the month! I have sat with you, I have dealt with your mood swings, and I have held you as you cry. I sleep in your bed for your comfort, but each night it just gets worse! You've been taking longer to wake, your screams," he closed his eyes, forcing the haunted sound out of his mind. He took a ragged breath, subduing his temper until all that remained was his concern for the woman before him. He felt his voice crack as his eyes threatened to spill tears again. "And now this? Kathryn, please. I don't want to lose you to this. Let me help you. "

"You do help me," she murmured quietly, placing a hand on his neck. Turning to face him, he saw the conflict inside her blue depths that she kept veiled from the Doctor, from anyone but him, as they began to water too. "You do all of those things and more. You make me feel safe. You see me at my worst and tell me everything's going to be ok."

"But these are only the symptoms, Kathryn. If we're to chase these dreams away, we have to fight it at its root." He placed his forehead against hers, breathing deeply to banish the tears. He felt the air between them mingle their breaths, further comfort that she was alive, and his voice returned, softer. "What are they, Kathryn? You can't move on until you acknowledge them."

"Not now," she whispered, her fingers tracing spirals on the back of his neck. It was a ploy to distract him, and he knew it. She was flipping to her flirtatious state, and he had learnt there was only one way to deal with that one. He sighed deeply, exasperated, taking hold of her hands and fixing his gaze onto hers. His voice was stern as he attempted to force the issue.

"Yes, now Kathryn." She shook her head.

"No. Holodeck, later. Gives me time to prepare." The look in her eye made him believe her. With a sigh, he let go of her hands and rolled to lie beside her. He watched as she ordered the lights out and as she settled back down. As he studied her, he saw how as she slowly calmed towards sleep her emotions settled, became more Janeway-typical.

"What is it?" Amidst his observations, he saw the smile that had caught the corner of her lips. She rolled onto her elbow, her eyes sparkling in the dim light as they would normally.

"You told me you wouldn't kiss me."

"It wasn't a kiss, it was mouth to mouth. You weren't breathing." He ran his hand over his forehead, pushing away the thoughts that were flitting through his mind. He barely recalled anything more than the strong desire to feel her breathing again.

"No, not that. When you took me into your arms... my neck..." He watched as she lifted her fingers to run over the soft, pale skin at the curve to her shoulder. He remembered then, in the heat of the moment...

"Kathryn, I was just relieved you were alive-" She smiled again, before turning, resting both her head and one of her hands on his chest. He felt her legs tangle with his as he tried to pull away. She hushed him softly, letting out a small, contented sigh.

"I know. You're exhausted, Chakotay, and it's my fault. Go to sleep. You have Bridge Duty in the morning."

Too tired to resist, Chakotay closed his eyes and drifted away, winding slowly down with the feeling of his arm around her waist, and her fingers dancing across his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

The past month has been busy with final exams and the such like, so I apologise for this taking so long! Hopefully there won't be too much waiting anymore.

As always, thank you so much to everyone who reads and takes the time to review. It really does mean a lot to me.

Also, this has been beta'd by Mrs Singing Violin now, who I thank for her incredible patience.

* * *

When Chakotay awoke the next morning, it was to the tickle of soft hair underneath his chin. Glancing down, he smiled at the offending locks, then slowly became aware of the warmth Kathryn's skin was imparting to his. They hadn't moved.

"You're awake." Her voice was light, clearly accompanied by a smile he couldn't see.

"How can you tell?" He furrowed his brow, lifting a hand to brush her auburn strands away from his neck and off of her face. She lifted her chin so that she could meet his eyes, her blue ones gleaming.

"Your heartbeat just picked up." Her voice was soft as she moved her fingers gently across his chest. He held his breath, his mind still too slow from sleep to respond coherently. In that moment, he was captivated by her touch, though it lasted barely a minute before she rolled away from him. She sat up on her side of the bed, rubbing her palms against her eyelids. "Sleep well?"

"Better, thank you. You?"

"Not since..." Letting her hands fall to her sides, he noticed how tired she looked; the dark circles under her eyes were evident as the dim lighting cast shadows across her face. With a worry, he clasped one of her hands in his, which elicited a small smile from her. She squeezed it back gently, but she still looked troubled. "Not since _it_ happened. I drifted in and out, but never solidly."

"Oh Kathryn," he sighed, using the back of his other hand to caress her cheek, hoping to entice her to meet his eyes. They sat there, again, lost to everything around them but their contact. But when she met his gaze, she moved away again, swinging her legs to the floor.

"Go, get dressed. I'll wait for the Doctor." She waved over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. Noting the hesitation before she heard him move, she turned back to face him, smiling softly. Returning to his side, she placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"I'm okay, Chakotay. Don't worry." It took nearly everything he had to resist the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead. He nodded slowly before he left for his own quarters.

Once in the empty corridor, he immediately hailed the Doctor, who said he would be with Kathryn in a few minutes. Exhaling slowly, he shook his head. Was he getting overprotective? With a Starfleet captain, that was not a good thing to do... especially when the captain in question refused to reciprocate his feelings when she was in good health. Shaking his head, he took one last look at her closed doors before ducking through his.

In his hurry to get away, he had missed the sadness in Kathryn's eyes as she laid a hand and stroked the mattress where he had slept beside her.

* * *

"What programme do you want today? Sandrine's at a quiet hour, maybe, or perhaps the Luau?" As they entered Holodeck One, Chakotay glanced down at Kathryn. She was always in off-duty clothing now, which felt strange in contrast to his uniform. The decks had been empty as usual during their journey through them and he could see that, on some level, it was beginning to bother her.

"I've actually got one of my own in mind." She provided a crooked smile before giving her order. "Computer, activate Holodeck Programme Janeway Theta Five, landscape only." Kathryn observed his raised eyebrow and, smiling, offered him an explanation. "This programme has several purposes: different weather patterns to suit different moods, different time periods, and characters, too, if I want them. This basic setting, though, is one of the more relaxing."

"Where are we meant to be?" He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. They were on a beach, but it was by no means idyllic: the sand was coarse and brown beneath their feet, peppered with pebbles and shingle; the sky was grey, dark clouds racing across the horizon; the sea, crashing angrily against the shore, was a deep murky colour, akin more to khaki than the deep blue he usually imagined.

"Northern France, near the Belgian border," she stated, striding towards the dunes behind them. "I came here a few times during my Academy days." She sat down, nestling herself amongst the sparse grass that was scattered beneath them. Glancing out at the sea, she tucked some stray hairs securely behind her ears. The wind defied her, though, and ruffled them back in front of her face.

"You call this relaxing?" With a small chuckle, he sat himself down beside her. Noting the chill that was beginning to creep in, Chakotay absent-mindedly wrapped his arms around Kathryn's shoulders, bringing her closer to share in his warmth. He was pleasantly surprised when she didn't resist: instead, she settled into his embrace and kept her eyes focused upon the horizon.

"This programme clears my head and helps to put everything into perspective. This is the calm before the storm. There's turbulence in the distance, but right now we are safe from it, and we should enjoy the time we have."

"Kathryn Janeway, I don't think I've ever heard you speak so philosophically." He heard her laugh softly, revealing a good humour he hadn't seen for days - no, months. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he felt her muscles slowly relax as they sat in silence. Glancing down, he noticed the restless motion of the twitch in her left hand and took her fingers into his: the best way he'd found to keep them still. He was free then to imagine that everything was normal, that they were just two people on the Holodeck, that she was not ill.

"Chakotay..." As she breathed his name, he felt her thumb graze across his wrist. Meeting her gaze, he felt his already-scarce control suddenly slip away. There was pain in her eyes, and he wanted to ease it. He saw longing and loneliness within the deep blue, and peripherally, he saw her soft lips part and found himself leaning inwards.

"_Commander Chakotay, report to the bridge." _He sighed before regretfully turning his head away. Tuvok had impeccable timing, for good or for ill.

"On my way." Jumping to his feet, he felt Voyager quake beneath them. Kathryn was instantly on her feet too, brushing sand from her clothes and heading for the door. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm coming with you." She had that look. The captain's look. Steeling himself, he braced for her resistance.

"No, you're not."

"I'm the captain, Chakotay, and my ship is under attack. They need me on the bridge." Taking her hands in his, he turned her slowly away from the doors.

"You've been relieved of duty, Kathryn. You're not ready for the bridge yet."

"Says who?" Her features were clouding, turbulent as the weather simulation behind them.

"Says the Doctor."

"He's only a hologram."

"And that's never bothered you before. He's our Chief Medical Officer, Kathryn: don't push it. You're staying here." As the doors slid open, she saw members of her crew, hurrying along the corridors, illuminated periodically by the faint flash of the red alert. The sight fuelled her anger, enhanced her determination, and yet, he was blocking her way.

"Let me out of this holodeck, now."

"No."

"Commander, let me out of this holodeck or you will find your sorry behind in the brig."

"Kathryn, we don't have time for this. I'm sorry, Kathryn, I'm so sorry." With his hands firmly on her shoulders, he pushed her backwards, sending her stumbling just far enough away from the doors that they would be able to seal. Hurt and confusion warred across her face, and he saw tears welling in her eyes. Shaking his head clear as Voyager was hit again, he steadied his voice command. "Computer, secure Holodeck One, medical code gamma two five. I'm so sorry, Kathryn."

"Computer, belay that order!"

"_Unable to comply."_

"Chakotay, don't you dare leave me here! As captain, I order you to -" the doors slammed closed before she could reach them, cutting off his receding back as he sprinted down the corridor.

"Bastard!" She punched the sealed doors repeatedly, screaming at the top of her lungs. The ship shuddered again, and she slid to her knees.

Helpless, un-needed: it suddenly hit her that she was no longer in command of her own ship, and hadn't been for over a week. She hadn't even set foot anywhere other than her quarters, Sickbay, and the holodeck. She was a cog in a machine that worked perfectly fine without her. Or did it? Not knowing made her feel worse. Were they just putting up a front to make her feel better? She thought back to the look in Chakotay's eyes when he'd been called away. She couldn't place it.

Blinking back the tears that stung the back of her eyelids, she stood, taking a ragged breath. She couldn't just sit here and wallow while her ship was in danger. But then, she couldn't leave either. She hit the door again in frustration before calming herself. She was Kathryn Janeway, always relaxed in a crisis. So she would give herself a crisis.

Stop.

Breathe.

Focus.

"Computer, fully initiate programme Janeway Theta Five. Characters, settings and costume."

The sounds of the dying flooded her senses, and she steeled herself. There was a job to be done.


End file.
